Bad Blood
by PearlyJammer
Summary: Rogue's living life on her own, but in a way she never expected. Sequel to Not Like You Thought It Would Be
1. Default Chapter

Title:  Bad Blood 

Series:  Gradually Tainted 

Author: Autumn 

E-mail: autumnleaves@autumnpenguins.com 

Summary:  Marie's living life on her own terms, but in a way she never expected.   The sequel to Not What You Thought It Would Be 

Category:  Horror, Drama  

Rating: R  language, violence, images that may disturb the minds of the impressionable 

Archive:  DH, APE 

Author's Notes:  This rather vicious rabbit was nipping at my heels in June, and I'd plotted it just a little bit then promptly forgot about it.  Come March, I found the beginnings of the story in a notebook and the nasty bugger attacked with a vengeance.  And then in a coffee induced sugar high, 'Not What You Thought it Would Be' popped out as the PERFECT lead-in, so here we are;) though I should add, that its not strictly necessary to read the fist story

The origins of this story have their roots in the Stone Temple Pilots song 'Creep.'  

************************  

  Pavmire, New Hampshire  

            "Take time with a wounded hand cause it likes to heal.  Take time with a wounded hand, cause it likes to steal."  The soft voice singing along with the local Alternative station blasting Stone Temple Pilots belonged to a young woman who by all intents and purposes was the girl next door.   Her eyes were brown, her skin was pale, and her hair was brown. True, she did have two odd looking white streaks in her hair, but kids these days wore the wildest things in their hair so it wasn't cause for concern.  The woman also was always dressed from head to toe, but it could, as easily be a religious thing as a personal eccentricity.  

           The young woman's name was also a tad odd to natives of the small community, but they simply figured her parents had been hippies.  Who else would name their child Rogue?  It simply wasn't done.    Rogue didn't mind the speculation about her.  In the two months since she'd moved from Westchester, she'd assimilated herself into town life and found life to be quite pleasing.  Nobody knew her past here, nobody knew her secrets, and most important, nobody knew she was a mutant.  

            Rogue wasn't ashamed of being a mutant, but she admitted, if only to herself that she loved being able to walk down a street without people giving her a wide berth, fearing for their lives.  Another important item on her list was that nobody knew about Logan.   To Rogue this was an all-important factor.  She'd grown sick of people speculating about a relationship that had never gone anywhere, no matter how much she'd longed for it.    She'd thought about Logan every day for two years.  It had started with a teenage crush, but had evolved into much more.   And the kicker was that she knew Logan at least had some feelings for her.   

          But that was all in the past.  She was here to focus on the present.  And at the moment the present included beautifying corpses for their upcoming burials.   True, it wasn't exactly a traditional job, but it was one that Rogue rather enjoyed.  A year on the X-Men team had desensitized her to death and bodies, having broken up several FOA meetings that got ugly; Rogue was no stranger to death.  It was a peaceful working environment, as she worked mostly night hours, and was frequently the only person down in the basement for long periods of time.  Another fringe benefit of her place of employment was that she could take her gloves off.  

           Her skin was still deadly, but only affected living things.  She acknowledged to herself that she relished the chance to enjoy the tactile sensations that only skin on skin could bring.  True, it was with the dearly departed, but it was better than nothing to a person who'd been deprived of that kind of contact for almost four years.   Rogue had yet to venture out into the community's nightlife, but she was content.  She owned a small house, she was independent and she was unknown.  It was all she could ask of life.  Now, if only she could forget about Logan.  She'd moved from New York, now it was time to move on.  

********************  

Elsewhere in Pavmire…………..  

            A young pair of dark clad people stood in the shadows of the local undertaker's.  The man had short black hair, pale green eyes and pale white skin. His shoulders were wide, and his body lithe.  The woman was the color of midnight with scarlet streaked hair and deep, blue eyes. She was only an inch or two shorter than her companion.  The couple  

  "Are you sure its her?"  The woman asked?  

            "Yeah, we followed her last night. Its her."  The man answered, never taking his eyes off the young woman in the window.  

            "What if she says no?"  

            "She won't.  She's about the loneliest person I've ever seen.   I can give her something to take that away.  Besides, we can always make up her mind for her."  

            "That's true Steffon, but you know that she has to be willing for the transfer to work."  

            "Angie baby it'll work." Steffon said, bending to kiss his beloved.  

            "Alright then, lets get this thing going." Angie whispered, a light glowing in her eyes.    

            She pulled a small vial of liquid from her jacket and poured it into her own mouth.   Angie kissed Steffon he slid his tongue into hers, transferring the substance to his own.   

            "You've just done enough crack to kill a baby elephant." Angie smiled.  

            "Let's get me ready for my funeral then." Steffon replied, a smile on his face.  

            Angie nodded and the two took off hand in hand.  They strolled off into the darkness, unnoticed by the world around them. 


	2. The Unexpected

*  Disclaimer in part One*  

The songs in question belong to Marilyn Manson, Hole, and Elton John.  

Previous Parts can be found at:  www.autumnpenguins.com  

Or Fanfiction.net under PearlyJammer 

*********************************************** 

            Rogue reported to work two days later and was surprised to see only one body to be worked on.  As a rule of thumb, there were always at least two or three stiffs as Logan so callously referred to them.  She shook her head, clearing all the Loganisms from her head was sure to be a challenge as the man had shared space in her head.  

            She strolled to the radio and flipped it on, hoping to find something work appropriate.  

            "We sing the dead song kids, cause we've got no future. 

            And we wanna be just like you."  Somehow, Marilyn Manson didn't seem terribly appropriate for dressing a body.  

            "Hey yeah they really want you, they really want you they do."  Courtney Love's grating voice could only be tolerated in certain circumstances; this wasn't one so Rogue turned the dial again.  

            "And you can tell everybody this is your song, now that it's done 

            I hope you don't mind, I hope you don't mind, that I wrote down in words 

How wonderful life is, when you're in the word."  

Rogue smiled, she'd always been fond of Elton John, and this song in particular.  Satisfied with a station, she finally walked back to her task.  She hummed to herself as she set the cosmetic tray.  She peered at the chart lying next too the body, and out of morbid curiosity her eyes strolled to the cause of death-overdose.  "What a waste" she said softly to herself.  The young man couldn't have been older than 25.  She wondered idly if he'd been a first time user.  He didn't appear to have any of the long-term symptoms of drug abuse that she herself had witnessed.  

She consulted the chart again to check for the make-up request.  Rogue's brow furrowed as she saw the box reading 'none' was checked, but a woman named Angie had signed the request, or lack of.  Something didn't click.  In general, the only time a corpse wasn't made up was if there was too much head trauma, which required a close casket funeral anyway, or the few times the body was simply being held before heading off to be cremated.  

Rogue turned, still pondering the mystery of the man on the table, and why no make up had been requested.  He was awfully pale, even for a dead guy.  A little blush and some light foundation could do him some good.  At least he'd look alive again.  She shrugged it off and retreated to the desk in the corner.  She needed to log in at least a couple hours of work, and there was always plenty that needed doing.  Rogue pulled out a writing tablet and was fishing for a pencil, when a blurb in the newspaper article caught her attention.  

****

**_Mutant Registration A Go-Go  _**

            AP) Tension builds in New York as the emergency UN summit prepares for its convention that will focus exclusively on mutant registration, and mutant rights. US Ambassador Lori Jensen stated "The function of this summit is to rid us all of the mutant problem.  Certain countries have let this go on for far too long.  We need to take an international stand on this issue and fight for the rights of humanity." 

            Should the proposed resolution be adopted in the UN, it seems certain that the bill proposed by Senator Angleman of Georgia will slide through legislation without a hitch.  This could very well be the end, as they know it.      

            A cold pit settled in her stomach.  The end as they know it, that phrase scared the shit out of her.  Mutants were already treated as a sub-class in many countries.  How much worse would life become if it suddenly became 'legal' to continue that sort of behavior.  It was something she didn't want to contemplate.  As an afterthought, Rogue dug through the desk to find an envelope and a stamp.  

She was sure that Xavier monitored every aspect of mutant activity, but it never hurt to send him occasional clippings anyway.  Finding her stamp and envelope, Rogue sealed the clipping into its white container and addressed the envelope in a practiced block style.  Charles would know whom the letter was from, but nobody else at the mansion, should they care to take a look would recognize the handwriting.  She would also have the letter postmarked from another city.  It was a little paranoid, but she really didn't want someone from her old life knocking down her door, and exposing her.  

            Rogue wasn't ashamed of being a mutant; it was just that she enjoyed the freedoms her new life allowed her.  This was the closest she'd come to convincing herself that she was happy.  Life at Xavier's had been good in many, many ways.  She'd had three square meals a day and a roof under her head.  Rogue had been able to finish in high school, something she'd given up on when she ran away from Mississippi.  It had given her a chance to have people like Scott, Kitty, Charles, Jubilee, and Logan in her life.       

            It really had been a good time in her life, but things had begun to fade back to black again.  The professor had informed her after nearly a year of meditation and therapeutic tequniques that her mutation appeared to be incurable.  Her relationship with Logan had never gone anywhere; well it hadn't gone where she'd wanted.  And then there had been the Carol factor.  

            Superhuman strength was hers now, but it had come at a terrible price.  One she hadn't expected, and hadn't wanted.  Aside from her own guilty feelings, there had been repercussions at the mansion as well.  From then on she was treated much, much differently.  She'd been given a wide berth that she didn't want.  The younger children had refused to come near her anymore, and even some of the staff looked upon her with contempt.  

            Murder.  Its what they had accused her of, not in so many words, but she got their point.  And she'd had to go through it alone.  Logan hadn't returned, and he sent no letters.  Its when she gave up on her and Logan, she knew that now.  The idea of them had died that day in the courtyard with Scott.  His relationship with Queen Jean had ended, and the death of one that existed only in her head took place.  Rogue missed Scott.  He himself had been a bit wary of her after Carol, but he at least had the balls to admit that it had scared him.  

            Her relationship with Kitty and Jubilee had cooled at about the same time.  They were vague friends when she left, but Rogue realized she hadn't thought about them once until tonight.  What sort of friendship was that?  

            Her thoughts were interrupted by the stroke of the clock.  She started when she realized that she'd been here for nearly four hours already.  Her tasks had been completed while she'd been dissecting when exactly her life had gone down the toilet.  She made a mental note to check her work over again tomorrow.  Cracking her neck, Rogue scooped up the last of the mess on the desk and tidied it hp a bit.    

            She was looking forward to sinking into a nice hot bathtub and indulging in a good book and a glass of red wine.  It was one of her favorite traits left over from her days with Erik on her mind.  He had impeccable taste, and she much preferred it to Logan's predilection to cheap beer.  

            "Who's Logan?"  

            Rogue whirled around and her heart skipped a beat.  The man who'd been on the table wasn't as dead as she'd thought. 

************  

TBC evil eh?  

****

****


	3. Decisions Decisions

***  Disclaimer in Part One****  

I do however own Steffon and Angie.  

***************************  

"You're dead" Rogue whispered.  

"Not everything is what it seems, Marie." the man said carefully.  

"No, I saw your chart.  You had enough crack in your system to kill three men!" Rogue began. "How-how do you know my name?  How do you know about Logan?"  

"I'm Steffon, by the way."  

"Are you a telepath?"  Marie asked, thinking perhaps this Steffon had dual powers, perhaps he was a telepath, and healed like Logan.  

"An interesting question, considering your condition" Steffon's cultured voice rang softly.  

Marie kept her face carefully guarded.  He wasn't giving answers, so she wasn't going to be revealing anything.  But she had to know if he knew what she was.  "Alright, I'll play along.  What exactly do you know Steffon?"    

"I know that your real name is Marie, but you go by Rogue.  You live in a small house on the edge of town because it reminds you of where you used to live in Mississippi. David was the first boy you ever kissed, Logan is the first and only man you've ever loved but you're royally pissed at him You're also a mutant, and you hate your own skin."Steffon finished smugly.  

"If you knew who Logan is, why did you ask?" Rogue asked, slightly panicked that he knew what she was but unwilling to show it.  

            "Why to start a conversation of course." 

            "What are you?  You're not a mutant, you-you weren't breathing." Rogue realized.  

            "I don't need to."  

            "Stop with the cryptic crap alright, who the hell are you?" She asked, anger replacing apprehension.  

            "You mean you don't know?" Steffon asked in mock surprise.  

            "Angie, Rogue here hasn't figured it out yet." Steffon said to the woman who had suddenly appeared in the room.  

            "Well dear, it's not that difficult to figure out really.  Steffon here isn't breathing, he's pale, even for a white guy and he didn't say that he wasn't dead.  You do the math."  The woman said as she crossed the room to Steffon.

            "Miss me?" He asked her lovingly.  

            "Baby, I didn't think about you once all day." Angie giggled.  

            "I'd certainly hope not," Steffon teased back.  

            Rogue just stared at the two and coughed nervously to break the rather long lip lock.  

            "Honey, did he tell you what's what yet?" Angie asked Rogue.  

            "I know this sounds stupid, but he's been implying that he's a vam-vampire."  Rogue said.  

            "Bingo."  

            "Flesh and blood, but no beating heart." Angie summarized.  

            "You're a vampire too then I take it?"  Rogue asked, careful not to let her desire to call the funny farm scream across her face.  

            "That's right."  Angie nodded in ascent.  

            "Well, that's not something you here every day."  Rogue muttered.  

            'You don't have to speak out loud, we can hear your thoughts.' Angie and Steffon said simultaneously in Rogue's mind.    

            Years of dealing with telepaths had conditioned Rogue to the sensation of hearing voices in her head.  So sure, they were telepath, and the man apparently had a healing mutation, the woman could probably teleport.  They had to be mutants, vampires didn't exist.  

            "Yes we do dear, and we need you with us."  Angie said.  

            "We can offer you things you can't even imagine." Steffon began.  

            "Like what?" Rogue asked in spite of herself.  

            "Immortality, power, the ability to touch.  We can give that back to you Rogue."  Steffon said.  

            "You're cruel."  Rogue shot out.  

            "Am I?"  Steffon asked.  

            Before he'd finished with the question Steffon was beside Rogue.  He reached out his hand and stroked her cheek.  Rogue shivered at the sensation.  It had been the first time in far too long that she'd been touched by another human being.  Steffon's hand sparked her skin to life.  A tingling sensation spread from head to toe.  The doormat sensation was being fully awakened.  

            To touch was grand, to be touch divine.  The last time she'd willingly been touched she'd been too unconscious too remember and cherish it.  And now she was being offered the chance of a lifetime.  But was it something she would only later regret?  

            The song she'd been listening to her came back through her head.  "We sing the death song kids cause we've got no future."  Rogue had a future once.  She'd been 16 and eager to explore the world. She had dreamed of going to Canada between high school and college.  The memories were so bitter now.  Everything in her life had been tainted by something completely out of her control-literally.  

            She had lost her family because of her skin, her own flesh and blood, the people who had made her and given her the very skin she existed in. Marie had adopted the name Rogue and hit the road to make her own way in the world that had been turned upside down.    Xavier's had been a slight reprieve from the world of roughness and fear.  The X-Men had served as a cause she could truly fit into and use her curse to her advantage for once.  But it had backfired, and a woman lay dead because of it.  Soon Rogue was back where she'd started from, surrounded by the people who were supposed to care for her and all she could see was the fear they felt.  Logan had been another unstable equation thrown in by hormones, good conversation and a life-bond.  

            Rogue had accepted the fact that Logan wouldn't return her feelings.  If Logan, the man she knew felt something for her wouldn't venture a relationship with her, then it wasn't likely that any man ever would.  She'd abandoned the small hope of a family that she'd ever had.  All her dreams had been cut down to simply existing.  And at that moment, she decided that wasn't good enough.  She wanted something more, she wanted something exciting, and most of all she wanted to feel.  

            "I'm in."   


	4. Beginings

*****  Disclaimer in Part One *******    

Author's Notes:  I'm sorry for the lack of Logan and Scott in this story so far.  But, the first few chapters needed to focus on Marie to illustrate her life and her contemplations.  There will be an appearance of Logan in the story soon, and eventually he will be drawn into the main part of the story. 

            Second:  I'm rather disappointed that nobody guessed they were vampires!  Lol.  I gave three different clues:  

PavmireVampire, they rhyme too ; )  The title is the same as an X-Files eppy that dealt with vampires. I described Steffon as being really pale, even for a dead white guy.  

Ah well, they were vague clues at best I admit.  Anyway, thank you kindly to everybody who has stuck by this story! 

********************************  

*Begins where chapter 3 ends*  

            Steffon and Angie exchanged slow smiles; everything had indeed come to pass as they had hoped.  They had Rogue in their grasp, ready to become one of them.  Steffon figured she had been given ample time to think things over and without hesitating, he advanced upon her.  Within a second he was across the room and holding her ungloved wrist to his lips.  

            Rogue hissed as he bit into her wrist.  She expected him to drink, after all it was what vampires did, but instead he bit his own wrist and offered it too her.  She brought his wrist to her lips, and he repeated the actions with Rogue's.  Green eyes met brown as quiet suckling noises pierced the air.  Her brown eyes grew wide as the rich, metallic liquid took on a taste she found appealing.  Rogue's sucking grew harder and the pressure on her wrist told her that Steffon was keeping pace with her.  She briefly wondered if that was part of the transformation, but quickly set it aside as waves of emotion washed over her the more blood she drank.  

            Within minutes Rogue felt completely different.  She felt the rhythm of her heart slowly drop off before stopping altogether.  When she ran her tongue over her teeth she felt the emergence of two fangs.  Her skin tingled where her shirt rubbed against it. Rogue looked around to discover her vision was far keener than it had been ten minutes ago.  All in all, Rogue found herself satisfied.  

            "Why isn't my skin cooling?"  

            "Just because we're dead, it doesn't mean the body doesn't retain any warmth.  We're not as warm as humans, but we do retain some semblance of a normal temperature after we've fed." Angie answered.  

            "Your body is dead, but the blood that is now in your body is ancient, and circulates on its own."  Steffon continued.  

            "How old are you?" Rogue asked the pair.  

            "267" Angie answered. 

            "154" Steffon said.  

            "Angie is my creator, as I am yours."  

            "You've been given a gift Rogue.  The blood of a dark master.  Though you are a fledgling, you have incredibly potent blood." Angie answered.  

"It used to be called junk blood, or bad blood because it was tainted.  The originator was a vampire named Ankia.  She was a dark priestess in ancient times.  She was a nomad, and it is not known where she originally came from.  Ankia was accused of crimes against the crown in Scotland in the year 1298.  As she awaited execution, she created a powerful curse, whoever was touched by her curse would become the carrier of a strain of blood whose properties would survive in only the strongest of vampires.  It came with a high price though.  The blood eventually consumes the carrier until he or she is destroyed.  It is one of the only things that can destroy a vampire." Angie explained.  

"While she was being taken to her execution, Ankia got a hold of one of the guards.  She bit him in the neck and began sucking his blood.  She pierced her own tongue with her teeth and mixed the blood before kissing him.  He pulled away from he too surprised to do anything and she muttered the curse.  William Machrin was the first blood descendent from Anika, and it is from him that our history is recorded."  Steffon finished.  

"Steffon was the last carrier, and he was showing the signs of destruction.  That's why we needed you."  Angie said quietly.  "You're DNA has longer lasting properties than that of a human's." She said, answering Rogue's question before she had a chance to voice it. 

"So, how long is it before this blood kills me?"  Rogue asked in a deceptively quiet voice. 

"We don't know Rogue." Steffon answered quietly.  

"You used me." She accused, voice full of rage.  

"We offered you something you wanted.  We just didn't tell you the consequences." He answered evenly.  

Rogue launched herself at him and to her own surprise she had him pinned to the floor almost as soon as she had jumped.  To her surprise she heard Angie laugh.  

"You're already stronger than we thought.  I wouldn't be surprised if you could fly."    

  "I already could." Rogue said simply, not wishing to get into the story of Carol.  

"Well Rogue, if you'll kindly get off of me, why don't we train you in some of the necessary tools of survival?" Steffon voiced.  

Rogue nodded her agreement and the three vampires took off into the night.  

*******************  

Westchester, New York  

                        Charles Xavier's morning routine hadn't varied in many years.  He was up early, groomed himself impeccably, and went out to his office where he took his light breakfast, newspaper and the daily mail.  Considering what kind of an institute Xavier's was, there were a lot of bills, and at least one or ten hate mail letters.  Occasionally Charles would open one just to see what the crazies had to say.  After all, the great thing about America was that everybody had equal rights.  For now.  

            Slitting open an innocent looking white envelope, Charles pulled the letter out and began reading:  

            _Fithy mutties,  _

_You're time is gonna come.  Scum like you have been allowed to roam free in this country for too fucking long.  Judgment day is here, and scum like you will be paid your dues.  You're abominations of God.  None of you deserve to be on the face of this planet.  Your mothers all should have had abortions instead of allowing filth like you to pollute the earth.  _

_There is a reason infancide is practiced in some countries.  Unfortunately, the liberal sympathizers see some value in your sorry hides.  They're as bad as you are and come this summit, I'll be voting for the right thing.  The American thing to do.  And you'll have to drag your sorry asses out of this fine country.   _

            Charles raised a single eyebrow; it was a bit cruder than most letters he'd received that appeared to be from members of the senate.  He tossed the letter into the wastebasket and reached for the next one in the stack.  The postmark was from a New Hampshire town, and was in the same bold type he'd come to expect when Rogue was in a secretive mood.  

            Inside was a short newspaper clipping and that was all.  He'd read it two days ago as part of a bigger article.  He figured that Rogue knew he had read it, but he was touched by her thoughtfulness for sending it nonetheless.  His mind wandered to the last conversation he'd had with Logan.  

(Flashback)  

"Charles, where is she?" 

"Nice to see you again Logan.  Welcome home."  

"Yeah.  Rogue.  Where is she?" 

"Have a seat Logan." Charles gestured with his hand.  

Logan did so grudgingly, his posture was tense and he kept fidgeting.  

"Rogue is a very capable young woman Logan. She chose to pursue her own life.  You've got to respect her wish for privacy.  In time I'm sure that she will contact you."  

"I know she's been writing to you Chuck."  

"Do you have a point? If so please get too it Logan.  I don't have time to engage in meaningless conversation if you're going to act like a child." Charles said harshly. 

"Fine. I'll find her myself."  Logan growled and slammed the door shut.    

Charles waited until he was certain Logan was out of earshot before he let a grin slide over his face and began chuckling.  In truth, everybody wanted to know how Rogue was doing.  She hadn't departed on the best of terms with all of the mansion's residents, Charles included.  He had felt a strange absence where Rogue usually was this morning.  While he didn't actively track Rogue, he could generally 'feel' her.  It insured him that she was fine, and her silence from it this morning had him more worried than he would admit.  

            Still, she'd asked to be left alone, and she was an adult able to handle herself and her own life.  Charles shook his head and vowed to let it rest for now.  If he couldn't locate Rogue, by Cerebro if necessary in a few days, he would send out the proverbial search party.  But for now he would just let it be.  

********  


	5. Preemptive Strike

***** Disclaimer in Part One*****  

Continues directly from part 4. 

*****************************  

Atlanta, Georgia 

Angleman Residence

            Three stealthy figures crept inside the perimeter of the pre-Civil war mansion.  The smaller female led her two companions with quick steps.  None of them were worried about the security cameras around the grounds, as their images wouldn't show up anyway.  Steffon and Angie had been impressed with how quickly their little fledgling had adapted to her supernatural abilities.  

            True enough Rogue had superhuman strength and the ability to fly before the transfer, but she had adjusted to reading minds, communicating telepathically and moving unnaturally fast unless she thought about it within a day.  Rogue had embraced a more aggressive demeanor than she'd had when she was alive.  The state of mind in which one decided to become a vampire greatly affected their attitude in the transcended state.  

            Rogue was coming along beautifully in their estimation.  She hadn't fed since the night of the transformation due to the high potency of her blood.  But tonight she was hungry and had a meal in mind.  Steffon and Angie had agreed to accompany her on her first night out, for moral support, and to see just how powerful their girl really was.  Rogue signaled the other two to fly with her.  She was sure the bedroom she was looking for was on the second floor.  

           A small balcony with a glass door was where Rogue chose her entry.  She pulled the glasscutter from her pocked and set to work.  Being careful not to make a sound, Marie pulled the round piece through the new hole and threw it behind her.  Gloves on her hands took care of possible fingerprints.  Rogue unlocked the door from the inside and stepped into what looked like a bedroom.   

          Judging from the interior, and the size it was most likely a master bedroom. A quick scan of the room with her keen eyes located the object of the night's journey.  Rogue turned back to see if Steffon and Angie had followed her and found them looking pleased with her and nodding towards the bed.  

          She swooped onto the sleeping object, pulled back her lips and plunged her fangs into the neck.  Thick, red liquid filled her mouth and she feasted hungrily.  Her subject awoke, spluttering and screaming.  Rogue pulled back from the entry in the neck and placed one hand over her mouth; the other retrieved the liter from her pocked, which she used to swiftly cauterize the wound.  "So, you're the asshole who wants to register mutants?"  Rogue glared at the middle-aged woman.  

           "If I take my hand away, are you going to scream, or are you going to place nice?"  

            The good senator nodded her head.  "Good?" Rogue questioned to be sure.  

             A single nod and Rogue let the woman go.    

            "What are you?"  Senator Angleman asked in a shaky voice.  

            "A better person that you are." Rogue growled at her.  

            "Oh God" Lori Angleman moaned as she touched her bloody and burnt neck.  

           "I didn't take enough to kill you, for now you're of some use. I want you to retract your bill.  Get your people to vote the other way.  Or I will track you down and kill you-slowly."  Rogue hissed.  

           Lori Angleman stared up in horror at the creature on top of her.  Surely it couldn't be quite human.  The womanly figure had very pale skin, dark, dangerous eyes and strangely colored hair.  Two white streaks dominated the front of what was otherwise dark brown hair.  For some reason, she looked oddly familiar.  Lori was so caught up in observing her attacker that she failed to notice two other beings in the shadows of her room. 

           "Remember, if this bill passes, you die." Rogue warned and abruptly got off of Lori.  She, Steffon and Angie disappeared into the night.  They were gone long before the ambulance pulled up at Senator Angleman's house.  

*****************    

Westchester, New York 

            It had taken Charles and Scott thirty minutes to talk Logan out of leaving.  It hadn't been an easy task, and Charles had had to play his trump card.  He'd agreed to tell Logan where Rogue was last located if he would wait for a few days.  Scott had talked Logan into traveling with him instead of taking off by himself.  Logan had acknowledged him by saying "three eyes are better than two" settling the matter.  

            It had been two days since the last time Charles had been able to contact the young woman, and Scott and Logan each had their bags packed.  They'd been persuaded to take the school Suburban in favor of Scott's twin motorcycles.  Scott's visor was suspicious looking enough, and he and Logan needed to blend into the background as best they could on a manhunt like the one they were about to undertake.       

            "Logan, did Rogue ever tell you about the kinds of places she'd stayed, the things she'd done on the road?"  Scott asked.  

            Logan took in a sharp breath and a thoughtful expression crossed his face.  He thought back to that day which seemed like a lifetime ago in his truck.  He'd picked up the young girl and had taken a well, liking wasn't quite the word, but she didn't annoy the shit out of him.  She was obviously full of piss and vinegar sassing a man she knew very well had six foot long claws in his arms.  Curiosity had gotten the better of him. 

            "How long have you been on the road kid?"  

            "What month is it?"  

            "November."  

            "Eight."  

            "That's a long time for anybody to be out on the road, let alone a young girl."  

            "You learn tricks." She'd drawled quietly, "Learn how to hide pretty well. How did you find me?  I've hidden like that before, and they never find me."  

            "I've got good senses."  Was all he'd said.  

            He sat for awhile and thought about what she'd said about hiding.  "Why didn't you just hitch?"  

            "You said yourself the road is a dangerous place.  I never hitched with a person unless I had thought the worse that would happen was that I'd be kicked off.  Jensen and you are the only two who have ever found me, and invited me into the cab.  Besides, people, and not to knock your gender, but men expect things.  Things I'm not willing to give."  

            "I don't expect anything kid, understand?  But, what if it was the only way to survive."  

            "Then I guess I wouldn't survive.  I want to live, but not like that.  There are worse things than death."  Rogue finished.  

            Logan was a bit taken aback by a 17 year old speaking so pragmatically. However he understood how it felt to be used, and he agreed to her. 

            "I get you kid." He'd told her softly.  

            She nodded and the two fell into a rather comfortable silence.  

******  

            "Logan?"  Scott asked expectantly.  

            He rolled his neck until it popped; the memories had brought on a headache.  "She'll be hard to find Scooter.  Rogue's damn good at hiding and she knows it."  

            "We'll find her," Scott said seriously.  

            "I know. Let's head out to find her tomorrow morning alright?"  

             "We'll get the directions and the name of the town from Charles tonight.  We will find her Logan, don't worry." Scott said, trying to reassure himself and Logan at the same time.  

********  


	6. Reunion

*** Disclaimer in Part One * * * * 

A/N: My update list for this and other stories is at:  autumnfic@yahoogroups.com 

****************  

Westchester New York 

            Scott and Logan had been true to their word and departed from Westchester as soon as the morning light had come.  Charles had seen them off and wished them well.  Logan predicted they would be gone for a few days at least.  Charles had told them that he could no longer track Rogue and it made all three men nervous.  Charles was a strong enough telepath to be able to track any living mutant within fairly easily.  He needed Cerebro too actually locate them, but without it he could make a guess at how far away they were.  

           "How far is this place?" Logan asked Scott who was behind the wheel. 

             Scott knew that Logan was more anxious to get to Rogue than he let on, and a particularly antsy Wolverine behind the wheel was not a good combination, so Scott was driving.  "It's about 600 miles."  Scott answered.  

            Scott flipped on the radio and began humming along to 'Genie in a Bottle.'  Logan snickered and it turned into an all our laugh when he saw Scott mouthing the words.  "I ain't gonna rub you Scooter, not in your wildest fantasy."  

            "Shut up Logan." Scott began; his face reddening at being caught nearly singing.  

            Logan kept laughing.  "Jubilee blasts this stuff on her radio all the time, I couldn't help picking it up.  The engineers behind this type of music are experts at classical conditioning."  Scott said indignantly.  

            "Whatever helps you sleep at night." Logan grinned.  

            The laughing Wolverine tipped his chair back and attempted to relax.  Scott had changed the radio to a classical station so Logan's chances of sleeping increased ten fold.  If he was on a long trip at least he could sleep through part of it.  

Scott schooled his brain to concentrating on the road ahead, he was glad Logan was attempting to sleep.  He really wasn't up for hearing his friend gripe and moan about driving like an old grandpa.   

            He was worried about Rogue.  Logan didn't know it, but Logan had only lost connection with a fellow mutant once before.  A mutant called Nightcrawler had been on his way to the mansion when a band of FOH'ers had gotten a hold of him.  They caught him by surprise and shot him before he could teleport.  Charles had sent Scott and Jean to pick up the body.  Without Logan's knowledge, Charles had instructed Scott to do the same should things come to that.  It wasn't something Scott was looking forward too, but he knew it was an option.  He was worried about Rogue, she had been writing to him every other week or so, but he hadn't heard from her in nearly three weeks now.  It wasn't characteristic of her to change her ways that quickly.  

            Rogue had a lot of repressed anger and aggression which would bleed out in extremely violent training sessions or when she was particularly stressed.  Bobby had been on the receiving end of one of her bouts of anger when Rogue discovered he'd been cheating on her.  She'd hit below the belt, literally and Bobby had ended up with stitches in a few uncomfortable places.  Scott had witnessed the beating and had been shocked at exactly how hard Rogue could hit when she was good and mad.  

            Her enemies received the brunt of her brutality, but Scott suspected that even those who were close to her could be on the receiving end if they were caught in the crosshairs of her rage.  It was a thought Scott had kept closely to himself.  Accusations of anger management problems weren't something Rogue needed to hear.  She had enough problems already; Scot t didn't need to add to them so he'd kept quiet. Shaking himself out of his grim contemplation Scott glanced over at his partner and discovered he was sleeping.  Scott flipped the station back and began humming gently to pop music.  He liked it for the fact that it was mindless enough to clean your mind of any thought, which was something he sorely wanted at the moment.  

***************  

            Charles returned to his study a heavy frown on his mouth and wrinkles weighing down his brow.  He'd secretly used Cerebro to attempt to contact Rogue but had found nothing.  It either meant she was dead or unconscious.  The last was a slim hope in a bad situation as it had now been nearly a week since he'd last felt her presence.  Rogue was almost as hard to kill as Logan was and could easily take care of himself so Charles was at a loss.  With a trouble mind he settled himself down to his morning routine.  He glanced through the mail quickly before pulling the newspaper into place.  The headline immediately jumped out at him.  

_Vampire-like Attack on Mutant Registration Bill Supporter.  _

            Late Sunday night, Senator Lori Angleman was asleep when she awoke to find herself with a stranger-latched too her neck.  The intruder drew blood but closed the wound in a highly primitive fashion.  Angleman had no other wounds but was visibly shaken from the encounter.  

When asked what the attacker wanted, Senator Angleman gave the following statement.  " My attacker is a mutant-rights terrorist.  My life was threatened if I didn't agree to retract my mutant registration bill and urge my fellow senators to do the same.  I refuse to be bullied by this coward. The bill will be submitted, and it will pass."  

            The strong statement from Angleman was heralded by several of her colleges.  The Senator got a clear description of her attacker, though the many surveillance cameras around the property showed nothing.  Angleman described the perpetrator as being around five feet six inches, 130 lbs, with brown hair with two white streaks, brown eyes and white skin.  Angleman claims the attacker is highly dangerous and incredibly strong.    

        Police sketch artists are composing a drawing based on the senator's description.  If anyone comes into contact with the suspect, please notify the Atlanta Police Department at 1-800-555-3245.    

            Charles stared at the article for a long time.  Deep down he knew it had to be Rogue, and his heart broke.  She had come to his institute as a young girl, full of anger and despair.  And he hadn't helped her the way she needed help.  She was damaged and he hadn't lifted a finger.  It was his fault, and he finally understood how grossly he'd underestimated her.  

************  

            Logan had awoken five hours into the journey and had insisted that Scott take a break for driving.  They'd driven in tense silence and finally entered the city limits of Pavmire, Rogue's last known location.  Logan's heart was hammering in his chest, he was nervous.  He hadn't seen Marie in six months now, and he didn't know what to tell her.  He'd been a chicken and had run away from her without giving her a reason.  She was likely to be pissed at him, and he knew he deserved it, but seeing Marie angry with him tore at his heart.  It made him feel guilty and want to do anything to ease that look off her features.  

            "What road?" Logan asked tersely.  

            "32 Taryn Road."  Scott recited from the sheet of paper Charles had given him.  

           Logan turned the suburban onto the appropriate drive and slowed the vehicle to scan for the appropriate building.  The truck rolled to a stop and he and Scott jumped to the ground and walked to the door.  "Logan, are you ready?"  Scott asked. 

            The older man simply nodded and rapped sharply on the door.  When there was no answer Logan knocked again a bit harder.  "Logan, the door's open."  Scott informed him, jiggling the handle.  

            Without a moment's hesitation, Logan opened the door and barged into the house.  Darkness greeted him as he stepped into the small living room.  Rogue's things were present everywhere.  Gloves, scarves, books, cd's.  The house smelled distinctly of her, but another scent mingled with it, one he couldn't identify and one he wasn't sure he wanted too.  Scott headed off to search the back of the house while Logan explored the front.  His eyes adjusted quickly to the lack of light, and his sharp sight picked out a broken picture frame on the floor.  

             It was a picture of the two of them.  He'd returned from Alkali Lake, and was hugging Rogue who'd come to greet him.  Kitty had taken the picture, which at the time had annoyed Logan.  Now he saw what he'd refused to acknowledge for too long.  Rogue was a beautiful young woman.  Her hair, her lips, her body, everything about her was young and full of light.  The only difference in her appearance was her eyes.  They held a weight and a knowledge that no 20 year old should ever experience.  It gave her the appearance of being older than her years.  Logan stared at the picture for so long that he missed the slight creak of the door as it was opened.  

           "She's not here Logan."  Scott told his college.  

           "Where the hell is she?"  Logan was frustrated.  

          They'd traveled all this way and still had yet to find Rogue.  "Where did Charles say she was working?" Scott mumbled to himself. 

         "The funeral parlor downtown.  McGreggor's Undertaking." Scott answered his own question. 

       "Nice name." Logan snorted.  

       "We have two options, try to find her tonight, or check into a motel, get something to eat and start again tomorrow."  

       "Yeah, I'm beat."  Logan muttered.  

       "You were asleep for most of the trip." Scott said exasperatedly.  

       "Shove it One-eye, let's grab a bite." Logan snarled and stalked out of the house.  

       A few minutes later the two were eating greasy burgers at the local burger joint.  They'd decided to check out the house once more before crashing at work, and if they couldn't find her they'd drop in where Rogue worked.  "Did Charles tell you anything else?" Logan asked out of the blue.  

        "About what?" Scott said carefully.  He didn't want to say what Charles had said, but he didn't want to hide anything either. 

       "The whole brain thing. Why can't he find her?"  

       "He doesn't know Logan. It's only happened once before, but it wasn't good alright?"  

       "What happened before?"  

       "Charles couldn't reach someone."  

      "Why didn't you tell me?" Logan growled.  

      "I'" he began but was interrupted by a piercing scream.      

      "Help!  Oh God someone help!"  A panicked voice cried from behind the restaurant.  

        Scott and Logan being in the superhero business, responded quickly to the cry for help.  In the darkened ally a young man was being held up against the wall while a smaller figure was apparently giving him a really nasty hickey.  Scott grabbed the shoulder and was shocked at what he saw.  The young man disappeared, and the young vampire licked the blood from her lips.    

        "Rogue?"   

       "You interrupted my dinner, what do you want?" 


	7. Death Comes Unexpected

Disclaimer in part one.  

Update list at:  autumnfic@yahoogroups.com

A/N: Thanks for hanging in there!   I appreciate all the feedback, comments etc! 

Warning: Character Death. 

*********************  

            "What do you want Logan?  I don't have time for your games."  Rogue said coolly to the shocked man. 

            "Scooter, can you give us a minute?"  Logan asked, not taking his eyes from Rogue's unreadable face.  

            "Don't wander too far Scott.  There are more." Rogue warned.  

            "What the fuck happened to you kid! You look like death on a hangover."  

            "Technically speaking, yes I am dead.  Or undead really."  

            "Shit.  There are real vampires."  

            "Yeah, yeah, shocking.  What do you want?"  

            "I want you to come home Marie."  

            "Rogue, Marie died, literally." Rogue's lips twisted into a cruel smile.  

            "The little girl finally bit it, get over it Logan."  

            "You're not Marie."  

            "No shit Sherlock, I just told you that.  I can see you haven't grown any smarter since the last time I saw you."  

            "Watch your mouth kid."  

            "Or what?  You'll stab me again?  Run away, break my heart repeatedly?  There is nothing you can say to me that matters. Don't you get it?"  

            Logan was too shocked to speak.  "That's right Logan, you're all surprised.  You never meant to hurt the kid right?  Never meant anything I'll bet."  Rogue spat.  

            "I protected you, I saved your ass."  

            "You saved my body Logan.  What you did to my head was 1,000 times worse. You fucked me up real good."   

            Logan charged at her but Rogue was far too quick for him and he hit the building instead.  "Go home Logan.  You're wasting my time, and I refuse to spend any more of it on you. Take Scott and get the hell out of my town."    

            "No Marie, we drove all damn day and I want some answers.  What the hell were you thinking turning into this thing?" He asked gesticulating at her. 

            "Well, I was thinking ohhh I vant to suck ze blood of ze humans."  

            "Cut the crap."  

            "Well, sugar.  In case you haven't noticed, in this incarnation I can touch whoever I want, whenever I want, and for whatever reason I want" Rogue whispered in his ear before flicking her tongue out and licking his ear.  

            Logan's body responded involuntarily and he felt the first stirrings of arousal.  He noticed for the first time that Rogue wasn't wrapped up in the usual layers he had grown accustomed too.  She wore all black.  Tight black jeans with a halter-top, a black vinyl jacket and black chunky boots.  She was tempting at hell and not his sweet Marie.   "What happened to you kid?" He asked, attempting to stir the conversation away from anything remotely sexual.  

            "No, no no Logan. I can see your thoughts.   I never knew you were the chains kinda guy.  Then again, it's not too surprising." She taunted.  

            "Get outta my head Kid" He roared.  

            "Uh-uh, you lived in my head for years.  I saw everything Logan, and I like it."  

            Logan was shaking with rage by this time, she was pushing all of his buttons and taunting him in a way that was cruel and uncharacteristic for Marie, but he had to remind himself that this- thing wasn't Marie.   

              
            "What do you want? I'll ask you one more time."  Rogue said tapping her feet impatiently.  

            Logan considered her and was about to answer her when they heard a scream and saw a blast of red light.  The two ran full force to the source of the scream and stopped in horror.  Rogue wrenched the black robes backward and threw him to Logan who grabbed him.  Rogue checked for a pulse but the damage had been done.             

                "Scott's dead." She announced in a hollow voice.  

            Logan popped his claws through the vampire's back, and was surprised when he didn't die or turn into a pile of dust.  He's seen Buffy do it before.  

            "You can't kill us with something that's not of the earth." Rogue's voice was dangerous as she approached Logan and the fiend.  

            The young vampire advanced with a medium sized stick. "Carve the end until its pointy." Rogue told Logan and snatched the hole-riddled vampire into her own hard grasp.  

            The killer was shaking and with good reason, Logan was menacingly sharpening a stake while Rogue dug her nails into his face and shoulders, drawing blood each time.  Finally Logan was done and advanced ready to slam the weapon into the vamp.  "Do it slowly Logan, he killed a friend of mine."  Rogue hissed.  

            "Gladly." Logan gritted his teeth.  

            The vampire howled in pain as Logan ever so slowly turned the stake into his chest in the motion he usually used to operate a screwdriver.  Rogue repeatedly slashed at the agonized vampire with her nearly razor sharp nails.  It took a solid three minutes to drive the stake home before the fiend gurgled blood out of his mouth indicating he'd finally died-again.  

            "I don't know what to say Logan.  I warned him." Rogue whispered sounding more like Marie than she had in a great while.  

            "I know kid," he said pulling her into a hug without thinking about it.  

            The pair stood there for a long time just clinging to one another their earlier argument and cruel words forgotten.  For a while they were just Logan and Marie again, grieving over the loss of a fallen friend.  Both shed tears, Marie's with a slight tint of red to them, Logan's silent and salty.  

            "Who was he?"  Logan broke the silence.  

            "I don't know.  I've never seen him.  I know that some hang out here to feed, but I'd never actually met any of them before." Rogue said in a subdued voice.  

            "He's gone Logan.  He's, Scott's gone. Oh my God."  

            Logan said nothing as another wave of emotion overtook him.    

            "Are you going to take him back to the mansion?"    

            "Yeah. You coming?"  

            "No.  I have work to do."  Rogue answered, the cold mask sliding back into place.  

            "Marie-" 

            "Rogue."  She interrupted. 

            "Just come back for awhile."  

            "No Logan."  

            "What the hell am I supposed to tell everybody?"  

            "Tell them the truth, tell them I died." Rogue said, glancing at the body of Scott.  

            "I'll be back for you Marie."  

            "Ah, words I would have loved to hear years ago.  Stay away Logan, you might end up like Scott."  She said before disappearing into the night.  

            Logan cursed her under his breath before setting about the task of carrying away the body of his best friend.  He vowed to kill any future vampires he'd run into.  But he knew in his heart that killing all in the world still wouldn't erase the pain of what had been taken from him.  First Marie, now Scott.  Fate had a cruel sense of humor.    


	8. Pure Massacre

** Disclaimer in Part One**  

Update list: autumnfic@yahoogroups.com

**********  

            The funeral had taken place two days ago.  Logan had read the eulogy and had immediately taken off after the funeral.  Everything in his room had been cleared out, and a few of the bows in the physical education cache were missing as well. He had been seeing red since his last encounter with Marie and was determined o make the fiends pay for what had been taken from him.  

            Marie was among that list.  Rogue had been right when she'd told him that Marie was dead.  There wasn't anything left of the woman he had cared about.  He was angry with himself for what had happened to her, he knew what her feelings were and had still refused to acknowledge that there could be anything more than friendship between them.  

            He felt guilt stricken and guilt was not something the Wolverine easily identified with.  Self-loathing, apathy, and irony he could deal with.  Guilt was new, and terrible.  Guilt was knowing that you fucked someone else's life up and was something Logan couldn't stand.  Fuckin' his own life up was fine since it just affected him.  But screwing over somebody else just felt bad.  

            On top of everything else, Scott was gone.  Storm had stepped up to become the leader of the X-Men, but the entire school felt the loss of a fine young man.  32 was just too young to die.  Scott had always been there for him, and Logan hated to admit that he was lost without him.  So he turned off all the emotions and did what the Wolverine did best.  The wolverine saw things in black and white.  Scott had been killed, and a debt needed to be paid.  Logan had thrown together some supplies, jumped back into a truck and sped off towards the place where it all had started.  

****************  

            New York City  

            Marie, Steffon and Angie had traveled to the city the night before the Mutant Registration Summit was to vote on the central issue.  The younger vampire had been following the news in both the paper and on the television at a nearly obsessed level.  She'd taken down names of pro-registration Senators and had come to the conclusion that another warning was clearly in order, as the first warning hadn't done the job.  

            Steffon and Angie were somewhat startled at Rogue's aggressiveness and hatred towards here 'enemies.'  News of her participation of the killing of another vampire had traveled fast.  It had led to the conclusion in various circles that a powerful master was on the rise.  Killing other vampires wasn't exactly against their code, but it was unusual.  And Daren had been dispatched in a particularly cruel way.  The message had come across loud and clear-don't fuck with Rogue.  

            Unfortunately for the U.S. Senate, they didn't seem to be getting the message.  So Rogue had enlisted help to leave a calling card.  Twelve targets had been picked, and the three vampires spilt up to inspire a little bit of terror.  

************  

The following day: 

Westchester…….. 

            Everything was falling apart.  Charles had lost three of his best team members in less than five months.  Scott.  Just the name brought back tears to his eyes.  He had lost his son, for that's what he truly was.  Charles had known the man since he had come to the mansion at 16.  Jean had taken him under her wing and the teenager grew into a fine young man.  Charles had always hoped the two would one day wed, but the end of their union had resulted in Jean leaving the mansion to pursue her own career.  She had come back for the funeral and had agreed to stay temporarily.  

            Logan had left without saying goodbye.  Charles could feel the hurt and pain rolling off of him in waves, and knew it was best to simply leave him to his own means.  And for once, Charles knew what he was up to and didn't step in to attempt to stop him.  He felt that what the burly man was going to do was justified, and the darker side of Charles admitted that he too wanted some sort of redemption for Scott.  

            Logan blamed himself for Rogue's death, and in turn Scott's.  But Charles felt it was on Rogue herself.  She had refused to accept life with her mutation, and hat turned to something far darker and sinister because of her own anger and selfishness.  For a split second, Charles almost wished Logan's mutation hadn't been able to save Rogue in Magneto's machine.  Then none of them would be here now.  

            Charles quickly admonished himself for such thoughts and wheeled into his office.  He'd barely slept in the past few days and had neglected his daily activities, the pile of mail on his desk attested to that.  He plowed through the letters slowly until he came to a plain white envelope with a familiar script.  

            _Dear Charles,  _

_            I know you know where I lived.  I'm sorry about Scott.  I really am, he was my friend too.  Knowing you, you probably blame me, so knock it off.  What happened with him was an accident, but remember you're the one who gave my location to Logan.  All I wanted was to be left alone.  _

_            Rogue  _

His hand flew to the bridge of his nose as he felt a major headache coming on.  He'd fought Rogue's wish to leave the mansion with tremendous force, but had finally come to the realization that she was her own woman and would do whatever she damn well pleased.  He'd agreed not to try and locate her with Cerebro, and not to contact her.  It had been hard; Charles liked to know what went on with everybody who had passed through his institute at one time or another.  But he'd agreed to her terms knowing full well that she'd take care of herself.  It had turned out that they'd both been wrong. 

            She was right when she said he blamed her, but she didn't apologize and Charles knew that in time he would indeed feel like a fool for attempting to place most of the blame on her.  But for now he could be angry with her.  He grabbed the newspaper and his blood ran cold at the bold headline, splashed across the face of _The New York Times_.  

            _Mutant Registration Bill Linked to Senator Massacre _

_                        Twelve bodies were found exanguinated in the Four Seasons Hotel early yesterday morning.  The hotel was hosting several members of the Senate who were staying in town for the Mutant Registration session.  _ 

            _The bodies were discovered early this morning when the 12 senators failed to show up for the first meeting of the day.  Four Seasons manager Susan Devins discovered the first of the bodies as she had personally gone to rouse the senators.  "It was like he was sleeping.  There was no blood or anything anywhere.  Just two little marks on his neck, and a card at his feet." Devins said of the late Rowan Johnson of Pennsylvania.  The card, later found on all of the victims simply reads: 'Vote 'No' on Registration.' _

_            The other eleven bodies were discovered shortly after and each crime scene was identical.  The police involved are perfectly puzzled.  Detective Robyn Willis stated that thus far not so much as a hair or a drop of blood has been found at the scene.  The coroner's report stated that each death occurred between  2:30 and 4:15 AM yesterday morning.  _

_            When asked about connections between the mysterious deaths and the attack on Senator Lori Angleman, detective Willis declined comment.  All Senators have been taken into surveillance and the mutant registration summit has been called to a halt.    _

           

            Charles hands shook in rage.  He had suspected Rogue to be behind the attack on Angleman, and from what Logan had told him, he had been correct.  He had been working his entire life for mutant rights, and now Rogue had taken it into her own hands to achieve that end through a terrorist approach.  He wasn't just angry with her now, he was downright pissed.  If she wanted to play dirty, then he was more than willing to bring on the mud.  

            He hadn't left the mansion grounds in a quite a long time, but now he was prepared to do just that.  He threw together a small bag and asked Storm to take him to the airport.  He could contact Logan later, but now he needed to get to New York.    


End file.
